The best part about having my "Celebration of Life" now, rather than later, is it's over and I'm not dead yet.
I've attended, or conducted, a lot of "Celebration of Life" services in my time and not a single person being honored ever survived.
Flipping my Celebration of Life to now, rather than later, now leaves me in uncharted territory.
There are no guidebooks or Funeral Director advice on what to do if you survive your service so we're making it up as we go.
The Celebration's over but a little after party lingers.
I love summer, so I'm delighting in it one more time.
Sarah built a pool in the backyard that Che and I float, talk and play in almost every day, and I'm delirious that I can still manage to do it after 5 years of all this cancer.
Lainey drags me for a walk most mornings (we call this "exercise" in our house), into a nature preserve complete with trails, forests, lagoons, marshlands, ball fields and I am overwhelmed by the beauty of the earth, sometimes to tears, so blessed I can still get outside every day.
Sarah makes plans for the things we're doing soon, from Beach trips to concerts, and I get caught up in the excitement.
"I gotta keep giving you reasons to live," she smiles, and I am baptized in hope beyond hopes that they'll happen.
They give me Banana tree roots for Father's Day and Che gleefully tells me I have to live until they bloom.
"It takes a year to a year-and-a-half," Sarah adds, grinning, and I'm reminded that this is it, time's running out, and if I'm going to enjoy what's left of this life, I better do it now.
Sarah and Che talk about the future sometimes, where they might live, possible schools to attend, things they want to do when they can, and it gives a sense of closure that the people I love most are going to be alright without me.
Sipping red wine, flying high from the garden, I thank God for the Holy host of Angels who made all of this possible, celebrating my celebration in the most tangible ways, as part of GoFundMe contributions or stopping by with gifts from the Garden, and I'm overwhelmed by the love we feel.
"You look good!" I'm told and I am so grateful that, externally anyway, people tell me and seem sincere, reminding me of all the symptoms I've dodged so far.
In spite of everything, I know how blessed I am and thank God out loud several times a day.
How long the party will linger is anyone's guess, and we've learned to not think about things happening next week, much less next month.
We stay caught up in one day at a time, and that's plenty enough, so we remain focused on the moment.
Though Sarah's always planning, and with this gift of time and enough health left, I wouldn't be surprised if she's got another Bucket List item to cross off for me.
Who knows?
During my Celebration of Life on the cruise, I chronicled every sunrise and, one night, all three of us watched the setting sun together.
Now I look at the pictures and note how hard it is to tell the difference between a rising sun and a setting one, blurring together into one vast, and incredible display of light, color and majesty.
It's hard to tell the difference between the beginning and the end of the sun's coming and going, and I find great comfort and hope in it.
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You can help my Celebration keep going all the way to the end at https://gofund.me/ffda4f4b